


The Extent of What I Am Willing To Do For You

by fan_of_interest



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post-Season 5, Somewhat Crossovers, Starts with Relevance, Time Travel, somewhat AU, somewhat canon divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-16 05:26:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7254211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fan_of_interest/pseuds/fan_of_interest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>:: When the Machine gives Shaw a number she recognizes, she wastes no time flying to Los Angeles. She knows she is taking a big risk looking after this number, but since Root’s death, she figures that there is nothing worse than having someone who loves you and not know that you are alive. Who she meets there literally changes everything and it’s up to Shaw to decide what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anomalies

 

“Miss Shaw. The Machine has given us a new number, but She insists that you take care of it.” Harold says with a worried look on his face. Shaw just shrugs at the sight of his worried look, cleaning her guns away from the subway car.

 

It has been a few months since Root died, a couple since Samaritan was shut down. They chose to continue working with the numbers, each handling the grief of losses on their own. Harold seems more like his old self, calm, collected and cautious as ever. However, since Root’s death, he has been more like a mother bird to all the members. He fusses over the little things and even goes out of his way to take care of them.

 

John has no problems with it since he wasn’t around often to witness it firsthand, but Shaw almost shot at him for treating her like a baby bird. Shaw understood and appreciated the food, but she certainly felt irritated at the fussing. There was only one person she allowed to fuss with her several different ways and she was not about to let anyone else do so.

 

John was currently on desk duty since their last number decided to close his eyes as he fired an automatic around like a maniac, and not the good kind too. One of the bullets caught his leg and so he’s stuck on a wheel chair. At one point, Fusco passed a package to him from an unknown sender and John frowned at the sight of a cushion. There is a note attached to it, saying “Use the cushion.” He understands Shaw’s reaction to Finch better when she shot at him several weeks ago.

 

It hasn’t been easy for Shaw. It wasn’t like she has become reckless or anything. She still went to the subway to help Finch and the new members of Team Machine with the numbers, but often she was gone. She made it perfectly clear to Finch that she will come on work hours and was available by phone, but otherwise, she was not there. When she was needed, she would come out from different places. It was very much how Root would be here and not here, would be there and not there all at once. However, one thing was certain. Shaw refused to hear the Machine.

 

Finch expected as much. He figured that Shaw would lash out in anger at him and the Machine when she answered the telephone after the AI war finally ended. He didn’t like how She used Root’s voice at first, but he did express that he missed her voice terribly, and while it was somehow off to hear Root’s voice used by the Machine, he took whatever comfort was there.  When Shaw heard the Machine’s new voice for the first time, she passed the number to Finch and vanished. When he asked the Machine to check on Shaw, even the Machine couldn’t find her. Later, she surfaced and thus started the whole I’m-here-but-I’m-not-here behavior.

 

“Where is it?” Shaw asks, finally satisfied with her clean Nano. She tucks it behind her as she makes her way to Finch. There in the screen is a number but with no picture.

 

“Los Angeles. The Machine is not allowing me to look into the number’s profile so I am afraid we have no idea who this is.” At the listed nine digits, Shaw’s eyes flash in recognition.

 

“Where is the threat coming from?” Shaw asks, already moving to their gun lockers to get a spare clip.

 

“She cannot identify it.” Harold says, looking at the data that the Machine is permitting him to see.

 

“Okay. When do I go?” Shaw asks.

 

“Right now.” Harold states as a one-way ticket to Los Angeles is purchased by the Machine. He hears a couple of rustling and turns to find Shaw patting Bear on the head. Just then, the telephone rings loudly in the subway. Shaw doesn’t make a move to get it so Harold goes.

 

“Will you be all right on your own, Ms Shaw? The Machine has given me another number.”

 

“I’ll be fine, Finch. I can handle myself.”

 

“Maybe it would be best if I accompany you.”

 

“No. John and Fusco need you here.” Shaw is about to leave up the stairs when Harold calls out to her.

 

“Ms. Shaw. If you do not mind, please reconsider having the Machine with you.” Harold’s tone is imploring.

 

“She’s already communicating with me. But if you’re asking me to listen to Her use Root’s voice, you know my answer to that already.” Shaw’s anger boil up, but she controls it.

 

“Please, Ms. Shaw.”

 

“See you in a week, Finch.” That is all Shaw says when she leaves the subway, leaving Harold with the Machine.

 

He walks inside the subway car, watching all the machinery and wirings. A pair of pink fluff catches his attention and he walks over to it. Root’s bunny slippers. He sits on his chair with the pair on his hands. He takes a deep breath and neatly places them inside a drawer. He knows to himself that the pair will never be used again, but he can’t help himself when he hopes that maybe someday, he will miraculously find them covering the feet of a daughter he never had.

 

 

 

_\\\JFK Airport_

 

Shaw makes her way with a luggage. With the Machine’s help, she breezes through security undetected and to a private jet. She supposes that she is thankful for that. She sits on one side with a drink on her hand. She stares at the mini bar before pouring red wine into a glass. She sets it next to her own drink, a strong whiskey.

 

Shaw just drinks silently, taking a few sips. It’s not how she usually drinks, but she doesn’t want to compromise her senses. There is a beep in her earpiece. She looks at her phone. With a sigh, she grabs it and sees a couple of messages from the Machine.

 

The Machine doesn’t speak to her and she supposes she’s thankful for that. However, the texts have been coming way too often for her liking. It’s almost like She couldn’t see her, as if Shaw suddenly became a ghost to Her after Samaritan’s fall.  

 

She makes her concern known, texts Shaw with information she might enjoy like what good foods are around in the vicinity and what the missions entail. She never stops reaching out and Shaw thinks She’s trying her best to fill a void that Shaw doesn’t even feel exists.

 

When her phone lights up with a call from an unknown number, Shaw doesn’t answer. She looks at her phone with what can be considered a tired look.

 

“I thought I’ve made it clear.” She warns the Machine. The call ends and Shaw sits back, her head tilted up and eyes closed.

 

“You know what I want.” Shaw recalls. After the end of the ASI war, she answered the telephone for the first time, and she hears Root’s voice. She doesn’t react even as the Machine asks her if there is anything She could do for her. Realizing that the operative wasn’t going to speak to her, She just gave Shaw the number and Shaw hung up.

 

“99.6% accuracy my ass.” Shaw says, her voice is quiet and flat, and she feels anger at it. There is only silence but she knows the Machine is listening.

 

“She said that You brought me back to her.” Shaw recalls the hope brimming in Root’s eyes at the sight of Shaw and the feel of Shaw that night at the park. She remembers the way Root looked at her in delight and relief and happiness. She feels the tight embrace that Root had pulled her into, her own desire to believe that the event itself wasn’t a simulation that night.

 

She feels Root’s hands in her hair, the desperate way it grasps tightly and clung to her form at the heights of pleasure the first night she got back. Shaw also remembers the warmth Root’s body gave off that morning, the way Root’s body curved to fit with hers so closely that there was no space between them.

 

“Do your job and bring her back to me.” Shaw whispers, and even though anger is the only emotion she could really feel, there is an inexplicable tightness in her chest. It threatens to consume her but there are no tears. Tears are for those who have hope, who can expect a release after being coiled so tightly. As quickly as it came, the tightness vanishes and Shaw opens her eyes.

 

“How long did I fell asleep?” She asks. There is beeping in her earpiece, indicating that she has fallen asleep for a couple of hours and that the jet will land in LAX soon.

 

“I appreciate you not telling Finch about the number.” Shaw says, sitting up and stretching. She moves to drink the last bit of whiskey she had left on the glass and notices the red wine on the other glass. She looks at it for a few moments, hearing a few beeps in her earpiece, before drinking it slowly. She savors the taste and it reminds her of Root’s attempt at a date night a few days after she got back. She lets a small smile grace her face before she cleans up.

 

Shaw easily checks out of the airport and she disappears into the crowd. The Machine manages to keep an eye out for her and Shaw mutters a ‘thanks’ under her breath when a taxi is hailed for her by the Machine. She doesn’t speak to the driver, knowing that the driver has already been paid to drop her off the nearest hotel to her number’s workplace and apartment.

 

“Where am I going?” She asks and the Machine beeps in her ear. She stops just outside the hotel the Machine prepared for her to find her number walking to work. Shaw just watches for a bit, a little surprised, as much as she could be, at the familiarity that bubbles up in her chest.

 

“Where’s the threat?” The Machine advises her to monitor the number, but does not permit that she goes in the number’s apartment.

 

And so, that is what she does in the next few days. So far, Shaw determines the threat to be disgruntled people who need a mediator for their settlement cases. She figures that the number must be happy with her job, her happy disposition and professionalism allowing her to keep a positive outlook, one Shaw doesn’t exactly have all the time.

 

When the third day rolls, the Machine notifies Shaw that she must enter the apartment since there is another anomaly that She detects. She beeps to Shaw that it is not human and reminds her to proceed with extreme caution.

 

“Whatever.” Shaw prepares for the worst, the idea of getting wounded fatally but not dying.

 

When she unlocks the door to the number’s apartment, she is met with an empty hallway and living room. Her carefully trained ears pick up the sounds of creaking in one of the rooms. She waits for direction from the Machine but She is silent. When Shaw reaches what she assumes is the bedroom, she hears a scream.

 

Shaw immediately comes in, ready to shoot anyone aside from the number, only to find herself furiously angry at the Machine. Shaw decides that the Machine did retain Her sense of humor because She must think it’s funny to be walking in on her number and her lover having sex.

 

“Sameen?!” The number looks at her with wide eyes, full of disbelief and embarrassment. Shaw cannot decide which is more amusing.

 

“Kate.” Shaw nods in greeting. However, Shaw does keep her gun locked on the entity above the number. The woman has a combination of brown locks accented by blue ones. Her irises are solid blue and her lips are tainted blue as well. The woman stares at her with a curious look, before getting up from the bed naked to reach for a night robe.

 

“You’re-Sam?” Shaw stays where she is, watching the other woman grab another right robe and wrap it around Kate’s shoulders.

 

“You’re alive?” Kate gets up from the bed to hug Shaw and Shaw allows it without taking her eyes off the entity in the room.

 

“I got seven more lives left. At least in this reality.” Shaw says. Kate places a hand over Shaw’s that is holding her gun.

 

“Who the hell are you?” Shaw asks, refusing to put her gun down. The woman just stares at her for a few minutes. When Shaw sees Kate nod in her peripheral vision, the woman speaks.

 

“You may call me Illyria, God-King of Primordium.” The woman states, her voice high and mighty and proud.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. I'm back.
> 
> This came to me when I heard Amy Acker talking about Illyria on one interview, after 5x10 premiered. She mentioned possible series ideas where Root would just be an imprint of Whiskey. She also brought up about how it would look like when Illyria and Root and Shaw would meet, and I figured, "Why not?" It took me a while, but since I couldn't get Illyria out of my head, might as well, right?
> 
> Personally, I like seeing Amy Acker and Sarah Shahi's other characters in alternate universes so in this one, Kate Reed from Fairly Legal and Illyria/Fred from Angel the Series will be used. The other ones I ship would be Dani Reese from Life and Whiskey from the Dollhouse, though there are good stories out there that have Shaw and Whiskey in them. Shaw and Fred is not bad too. 
> 
> Well, see you guys again. I'm working on the other chapters as you read this.


	2. Always the Hero

“I find it entertaining that you think a piece of metal can wound me.” Illyria says as she leans against a desk, her tall form dominating and authoritative. Lucky for Shaw, she really doesn’t care about authority except for one.

 

“Illyria, don’t provoke her.” Kate’s tone is chastising. Illyria doesn’t seem to follow it but she stays still as if moving will aggravate Shaw. The Machine beeps in Shaw’s ear, reminding her of their connection and she turns the safety on her gun before deciding to give the Machine a piece of her mind.

 

“I know you’re listening.” Shaw suddenly says and she ignores the inquiring look from Kate and the curious gaze from Illyria.

 

“Sam-”

 

“Not now, Kate. You told me there’s a problem. Here. That’s why I agreed to this mission. Because I trust you to give me real numbers. You gave me Kate’s number because you believe she is in imminent danger. Where’s the threat?” Shaw says as she stares at the camera on her phone.

 

“Who are you talking to?” Kate’s voice is laced with worry. Shaw ignores it.

 

“My employer. Now, tell me why I’m here because this must be some sick joke you’re playing!”

 

“You grieve.” Shaw turns to Illyria and she shakes any thoughts of how this entity looks very much like Root. She thinks that it was as if Illyria had inhabited Root’s body. Illyria stands straight, slowly walking towards the operative. Shaw raises her gun, her expression twist in anger.

 

“Did you also love Winifred Burkle?” Illyria asks curiously as she reached out to push Shaw’s gun down gently.

 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Shaw keeps her gun aimed and she feels the tight grasp of Kate’s fingers on her arm. She watches Illyria tilt her head up and before she knows it, she is looking at what looks to be a shy and innocent Root.

 

“Whatever you’re doing, stop it.” Shaw doesn’t know who she’s saying it to, but when Root’s look-alike pushes her gun down slowly, she relents.

 

“A look-alike then.” Shaw watches Root’s look-alike step back and the woman returns to her old look. The Machine speaks in her earpiece.

 

“ _Sameen._ ” Shaw frowns at the voice, the voice she so desperately tries to remember since the death of its owner, the composer of a symphony that matched her own.

 

“I thought I made it clear-”

 

_“I need you to hear me out. Please.”_ Shaw listens, somehow entranced and repulsed by the voice at the same time.

 

_“This is Illyria. You can think of her as a different Root from another dimension.”_

 

“Why am I here?” Shaw asks again, her body tense in rage.

 

_“She can help you get Root back.”_ Shaw looks up straight at Illyria’s emotionless look. The entity seems to be studying her and Shaw doesn’t back down at the similar yet different observing gaze.

 

“How convenient.” Illyria states as if she had been listening to Shaw and the Machine’s conversation.

 

“Playing with time is such a dangerous thing to do.” Illyria adds.

 

“Shut up.”

 

_“Sameen. Please.”_

 

“You’re telling me she can save Root? And just how is she going to do that?”

 

_“Time Travel.”_  Shaw isn’t sure if she should believe, but she wants to believe. Maybe things didn’t have to happen the way it did. Maybe, they could go back, to get the life she wanted to live: the one with Root in it.

 

_“She can go back in time. I am not sure if things will change, but I loved Root too, Sameen. And I would try to get her back if there was a choice.”_ Shaw waits before tucking her gun away. She sits down on one of the chairs as she watches her own look-alike, her cousin sit next to her.

 

“Sameen. What’s going on?” She looks at Kate with her usual stoic look before shifting her gaze to Illyria.

 

“My employer sent me here under the pretense that you were in trouble. Turns out, I’m here to time travel.” Illyria only raises a brow at her, amused but still curious.

 

“You are human yet you have survived for this long? Impressive.” Illyria states, earning a look from Shaw that is neither hostile nor benign.

 

“Whatever you’re doing, going through my head or whatever. Stop it. What are you anyway?” Shaw asks rhetorically, not really wanting to know or curious about the entity who is intimate with her cousin.

 

“You ask yet you do not wish to know. Is that really how humans are?” Shaw decides she wants to shoot Illyria for just the heck of it. This was worse than talking to the Machine. At least the Machine has been taught how to read social cues.

 

“Yes, we’re crazy low-lives being _civilized_ with each other, but get upset when others are not _civilized_ with us. It’s astonishing how we’re still alive.” Shaw bites, irritation building as she tries to collect her thoughts at the idea of time travelling.

 

“Illyria, could you leave us be for a bit?” Kate says. Illyria looks at Kate curiously before nodding. She makes a move to get out of the room. Kate grabs her hand as she passes by.

 

“Thank you.” She says, to which Illyria lingers for a bit before going out to the living room.

 

“Sam.” The tone takes Shaw’s attention to Kate, who is now equipped with a motherly look. Shaw groans.

 

“I thought you were dead.”

 

“I was. Got injected with aconitine by my mentor back in 2012. Got shot in the head when the stock market almost crashed. Even shot myself over 7000 times. I’d say you’re crazy, talking to a ghost, but then what would that make me?” Shaw stands up, turning away from Kate, facing the door.

 

“They told me you died fighting valiantly for the country.”

 

“That’s what they tell everyone. For others, it’s true, but the government will say anything to cover their mess.”

 

“Does this mean you cannot tell what you’ve been up to since you… died?” Shaw is silent for a while, not moving even when Kate placed a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Maybe if this mission is successful, I can introduce you to…  some friends of mine.” Shaw says, voice flat but Kate seems to detect her uncertainty.

 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Kate says, wrapping her arms around Shaw’s shoulder. When Shaw shrugs her off, Kate doesn’t seem offended. Just then, Illyria enters.

 

“I have been told to come with you.” She says and from her tone, she’s not entirely pleased but is not bothered by it also. Shaw dissents.

 

“No way. You’re going to stand out so much. I’m good at keeping my privacy, but you’re a tough secret to keep.”

 

_“Sameen, please take her with you. She knows more about time travelling than is known to humanity.”_

“I’m no genius with this metaphysics stuff, but I watch enough movies to know that if some things change, everything will change. I may be able to save some lives, but I will lose others. If she goes with me, we could both end up dead.”

 

“I cannot die. I will not break. I am not weak like you humans.” Illyria frowns a little, as if offended by Shaw’s insinuation.

 

“Things that are meant to be will happen. That is for certain. Some things are predestined.” Illyria states. Shaw waits for the Machine’s orders.

 

_“I trust that you two will be fine. Please, Sameen. For Root.”_ The Machine says. Shaw glares at her phone and closes her eyes.

 

“Don’t stand out. It will be a big joke to have two Roots.” Shaw says to Illyria, who nods in understanding.

 

_“I know I will not remember it. Please keep her out of sight. I do not want to compromise the mission.”_ The Machine reminds them.

 

“I need you to give me something so that when she messes up, I can remind you to trust me.” Shaw says as she points at Illyria.

 

_“You have been a valuable asset, Sameen. I trust you even before you began working for me.”_ The Machine says this with a sweet tone, and Shaw feels herself rolling her eyes. Leave it to the robot overlord to be all-seeing and have foresight.

 

_“Sameen…”_ The Machine calls out.

 

“What?”

 

_“Be careful.”_ Shaw stays still. The Machine watches her from her phone, figures that what She herself is feeling now is what Root would always feel when Shaw remains unmoving and unresponsive for a given time. She knows Shaw can hear her, but She doesn’t push. That’s when Shaw gives her answer.

 

“Always am.” Shaw says before taking the earpiece out. She looks over to Illyria, who nods and closes her eyes. Illyria reaches out to her and when Shaw accepts her hand, there is a flash of light.

 

 

 

“Shaw!” Shaw’s eyes open at the call of her name. Her vision clears up to reveal a young man whom she had worked with since starting in the ISA.

 

“Are you okay?” Cole asks, his tone laced with concern. Shaw feels his hand on her arm and she sits up. He moves back to his seat and Shaw realizes that she’s in a van.

 

“Just wanted to tell you that we’ve arrived to the airport. I know you said we’ll see each other in New York but you fell asleep. I figured I could let you sleep for a bit more so I drove here.” Cole said, removing his earpiece. Shaw watches him for a bit more until he looks at her.

 

“Sam?” This seems to wake Shaw up completely. She clears her throat before asking a predictable question.

 

“What day is it?” At Cole’s answer, Shaw finds herself turning away from him in disbelief. She has returned on the day she and Cole were heading to New York. Suddenly, she remembers Illyria. She looks for her bag and gets out of the van. After walking a few feet, she turns back to Cole.

 

“You coming?” She asks, gesturing with her head to the airport. Cole seems surprised and Shaw wonders if she’s forgetting anything. She is reassured when she sees a somewhat similar smile on Cole’s face, one which usually translates to ‘You’re opening up to me but I won’t mention it so you don’t go away’ courtesy of Root.

 

“I’ll have the van picked up.” Shaw turns to the airport building, hearing Cole request a pick-up before he rustles out of the car. Shaw hides a smile when he hit his head as he moved out. Good thing he didn’t see it. Shaw figures she’s already exceeded her level of crazy for today.

 

Shaw secures a seat first, looking around subtly for her still missing companion. She feels a presence approach her from behind. Her ISA training kicks in, and when she is about to confront the figure, she is met with a hug.

 

“It is I. Don’t act suspiciously.” Illyria’s voice is somewhat different from Root’s, but Shaw’s anger spikes up when she looks up to see Illyria looking like an innocent Root once more,

 

“Where the hell did you go?” Shaw whispers, feeling Illyria move away slowly.

 

“You told me that I am not allowed to be seen so I only deemed it appropriate that I was not with you when we got here. Are you always this angry?” Shaw doesn’t answer but the curious look Illyria gives her is definitely genuine. Shaw moves away from her and waits for Cole.

 

“How do you want to communicate?” Illyria asks.

 

“I can’t have an earpiece with me that does not belong to the ISA.” When she spots Cole at the gate, she begins moving.

 

_“Then, is this all right?”_ Shaw is tempted to curse at this entity. Her voice echoes lightly in Shaw’s mind and the operative suddenly finds a new appreciation for the Machine’s means of communication.

 

“Fine, but don’t talk to me unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

 

 

 

The flight to New York was just as Shaw remembered it. Cole sat away from her in the plane and they made their way to the heart of New York separately. Shaw found herself a little paranoid, considering she was like waiting for a ticking bomb to explode.

 

She looks around as she walks the streets of New York. She takes a sip of a good-enough coffee before stopping to look around. Shaw recognizes the intersection when her eyes meet a familiar face across the street. She hides a smile as she turns her back.

 

“Cole, I think I’ve been made.” She says over the comms. “My 3:00, good-looking guy in a suit.”

 

“You sure he’s not just checking you out?” There is a hint of amusement in Cole’s voice and Shaw turns to find the man in the suit gone. She looks around for good measure before going on ahead with the mission.

 

 

 

They follow their number and wait outside his apartment until lights out. Shaw can’t help but smile when she realizes how easily John can be made. She had seen him twice since the intersection, given that she looks for him.

 

“You ever wonder where Research gets the numbers?” Suddenly, the memory of Cole getting shot comes to her mind. Shaw’s smile from earlier goes away as Cole waits for her answer, one she remembers answering well enough.

 

“No.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I don’t work for Research.” Shaw says it with a neutral tone just like she did years ago.

 

“Did you every think they could be wrong sometimes? Like that guy in San Jose. Aquino.” Cole continues to voice his thoughts and Shaw is almost tempted to tell him to stop.

 

“You did something stupid, didn’t you?”

 

“I called one of my friends from the agency, asked her to trace the money. Aquino was doing something covert, but he was doing it for us. I’ve requested an internal investigation.” Shaw looks around the dark apartment as Cole talks. She knows where to look for what she needs now.

 

“I will keep you out of it, I promise.” Cole is apologetic and Shaw wonders at that moment if his life is one that has been sealed from the start.

 

“Mercer’s on the move. Let’s go.” She makes her way into the apartment with Cole. She looks around the apartment.

 

“Do you have the name of the contacts?” Shaw watches Cole look at the laptop in front of him, and he relays the same thing she discovered before.

 

“Yeah… They’re us.” Shaw pushes Cole down at the sound of gun fire. She raises her head when the shooting stops and fires several rounds on the door, stopping only when she hears a body drop on the ground. Shaw looks up to the door opening and sees a familiar stun grenade rolling in the room. She covers Cole’s ears with her hands. When the grenade explodes, there is ringing in her ears.

 

“What the?!” She slightly hears Cole swear as she points her gun to the door, killing the operative who went through.

 

“Shaw?” Cole asks as his partner stands up to close the door.

 

“They set us up.” Shaw says as she takes a radio from the operative.

 

“What?”

 

“Wilson. Control. The agency sent a team to take us out because you started asking questions.” Shaw says, gesturing to Cole to get up and follow her out of the room. An operative raises his gun towards them but Shaw moves fast, taking a flashbang from his vest, pulling the pin, and putting it inside his gas mask. His panic allows Shaw to push him in the room as the flashbang explodes on his face; the two go down the stairs.

 

She expects John to appear so she turns the entrance, but Wilson appears.

 

“Shaw!” And just like that, Cole uses his body to protect Shaw, again. Another shot goes off, and Shaw automatically shoots multiple times at Wilson’s center mass before she crouches down to take care of Cole.

 

“I’m sorry.” Shaw thinks that there is nothing more annoying than people apologizing for doing things they were planning to do anyway.

 

“I was trying to get your back.” Cole says, his breathing hard and in intervals from the pain. Shaw raises her right hand, touching his face as tenderly as she is able to. She hopes that Cole gets her message.

 

“Always trying to be a hero, huh?” Shaw says as she keeps eye contact with Cole. He seems surprised but thankful for it. He gives her an adoring look that Shaw is very well familiar with.

 

“No… Just yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missed me? Sorry for taking a month off (to the day). I'm preparing for a move so I wasn't able to do my research as quickly as I would have liked. 
> 
> Tell me your thoughts if you want. I wasn't sure about what I wanted to happen in this chapter.


	3. Hello, Veronica

“Shaw.” At the sound of her name, Shaw looks up from where Cole is currently lying down, breathing heavily.

 

“… listen. My name is John. I’m here to help you.” Shaw thinks about Illyria and is surprised to hear her speak.

 

_“What is it?”_ Shaw looks around to find bullets suspended in air. She doesn’t move though as she speak to Illyria.

 

“What would happen if I join John here?”

 

_“If you are worried that you will change the future, then you are just stressing yourself. Either way, things that were meant to happen will happen. Your mentor will still inject you with aconitine. The machine will still change the news about Cole, given that he dies here now. And you will look for a woman who bears a similar likeness to me.”_

“All right.” Shaw says, looking at John.

 

“Can you get me out of here?” She asks for performance’s sake. John nods before cautiously coming to her side. Shaw doesn’t flinch when he puts his arm out for her to hold on as he looks around for more threats.

 

“Finch. I’ve got her.” John says. She hides a smile as she looks at Cole, who is smiling at her.

 

“Come on. You’re not dying on me this time.” Shaw whispers as John helps her carry Cole out into the darkness.

 

ISA operatives arrive in a van as soon as they get out of the area. Hersh steps out the van, looking around. There was no sign of their missing operative. There are bodies everywhere, broken glasses and cracked walls in the building. Upon finding Wilson’s body on one side, he signals to the other operatives as his phone rings.

 

“Ma’am.”

 

“ _What happened?”_

“Shaw is gone. Cole’s body is not here either.”

 

_"He’s probably alive. Keep an eye for her.”_

 

“I am to believe that she’ll turn up to meet with Special Counsel.”

 

_“You’re positive?”_

“Shaw’s a multitasker. If her partner’s dead, she’ll come back for revenge, and at the same time, she’ll protect the program.” Hersh says confidently.

 

_“… Make sure to tie up the loose ends.”_

 

“Yes, Ma’am.” He says before the call drops. He climbs back in one of the vans and leaves the cleanup to the other operatives.

 

 

 

“My employer wants to meet with you.” John says as they watch Cole on a makeshift hospital bed. Cole is stable and resting so Shaw turns to John. He gestures to the hall outside and they move inside the abandoned area. When they come to an even more secluded area, simple and painted cement as walls, Shaw recognizes a familiar figure.

 

“Hello, Ms. Shaw. You can call me Harold.” Harold says, turning around to look at her.

 

“So, you’re the man in charge?”

 

“No. No one’s in charge. My friend and I help people in trouble.” Shaw listens carefully just as she did years ago. This time, she doesn’t insinuate ill will from her future employer.

 

“You work – or at least you used to work –for a secret government program that prevents terrible things – terrorist acts and crimes relevant to national security. You receive information from a group of people called Research, which is notable for two reasons: One-”

 

“It’s never wrong.” She interrupts him, amusing herself with his short silence and a nod before continuing.

 

“And it consists only of a number.” Harold leans forward slightly to hand her a piece of paper with her and Cole’s number, no doubt.

 

“This is –”

 

“Your number. And Mr. Cole’s. I would like to thank you for coming with John. Had it been a moment too late, Mr. Cole could have died too. To be honest, we weren’t really sure about the exact nature of your situation at first.”

 

“How about now? Do you know?”

 

“Let’s just say that ultimately, you and I work for the same entity, and that entity alone knows the truth. I merely speculate with the clues that I find.” Shaw internally scoffs a little. Leave it to the reclusive billionaire to downplay himself like that.

 

“In truth, we were probably the only ones who could help you.”

 

“If your… entity wants me alive, why didn’t it stop the agency from disposing of me and Cole?” Shaw asks, watching as Harold tries to word his answer better.

 

“I believe it just did, didn’t it?” Harold gives her a small smile.

 

“It’s not over. If you know so much about my employers, then you must know that they are very… very good at finding people. And I don’t need forever to find whoever it was that gave the kill order.” Shaw says.

 

“We will help you get away from all of this, but please understand that you won’t even scratch the surface of their organization, and you’ll still be in grave danger. This world is very different than it was ten years ago, and most of the people who know about the truth behind the group of people you call Research are dead. I would rather you and Mr. Cole don’t join them.”

 

“You know about it, don’t you? The truth about Research… and I get that you’re trying to keep me from finding out more about it because, as you said, I’d die…” Shaw pauses, looking towards the city lights outside the midnight horizon.

 

“But hiding isn’t my style. And I’ve died too many times to care about one more death.” Shaw looks Harold straight in the eyes, and she knows that from how he is looking at her, he picks up on the existence of a hidden secret.

 

“Cole, however, deserves better. I never had many friends. Didn’t have much use for them. He’s an exception. If you want to help me, get him out of here. Make it seems like he died so they won’t look for him. They would probably just say something about Cole being a militia suspect and your… entity would make him out to be some CIA agent, a hero who uncovered a domestic terrorist attempt.” She watches as suspicion fleets through Harold’s eyes and she decides to hold the reigns more firmly.

 

“I have some unfinished business with my employer. You see, I have to return this.” She shows Harold a small metallic wrench, opening it to reveal a USB.

 

 

“This is why they’re still going to be after me, and maybe my life too. I’m going to meet with them, and if you want to be useful, show up with some atropine when you find me with your cop friends.” Shaw says, putting the USB in her pocket.

 

“Since you seem like you trust us to save you another time, then this won’t be necessary?” Harold asks, handing her his card. She takes it from him for a moment before giving it back to him.

 

“They’ll probably find that when they kill me. Give it to me when I’m officially dead.” Shaw turns to leave, stopping only to remind Harold to take care of Cole.

 

 

 

Somewhere in New York, Shaw calls Cole’s contact, a Veronica Sinclair she doesn’t really know but is somewhat thankful for. When she answers, Shaw decides that she will direct the real Veronica Sinclair to John through the Machine as thanks for being very easy to impersonate.

 

The next day, 5:00pm, Shaw knocks in the Suffolk Hotel in Manhattan, room 1458. She takes a deep breath, looking around when the door opens.

 

“Hello, Veronica.”

 

“Come in.” As Shaw walks in the room, she lets herself bask in the familiarity she never knew she needed; her heart beats anxiously at the promise of a memory that has yet to occur, and Shaw looks around to see if she missed anything the first time. They go through some surveillance precautions before they start talking business.

 

“What happened to him?”

 

“He was killed. On a mission. The less you know about all of this, the safer you’ll be.” Shaw hides a smile when she notices the change in hacker’s breathing when she takes her coat off. As they talk, Shaw finds herself watching Root carefully. Watching Root assume Veronica Sinclair’s identity, Shaw thinks, is commendable. It was no wonder that she found herself with her guard slightly down.

 

“They built a facility of some kind coded as Research. But I can’t find the names of anyone else involved in the project.” As the hacker finishes this statement, there is a familiar clatter that has Shaw turning to the source on instinct.

 

“Mike said Aquino told you the name of his contact in Northern Lights. Do you remember it?” It certainly was a good attempt to distract her, but Shaw knows what will happen when she follows the script. Shaw doesn’t try to locate the missing Veronica Sinclair, rather she just stares at the woman before her.

 

“Sam?” Root asks, and Shaw closes her eyes before exhaling. The ex-ISA operative does not really want to be tased again, or drugged, or zip-tied, at least not this early in whatever they will have. The iron was tempting, but there’s always a next time.

 

“I don’t remember any name. I don’t know what you’re looking for and I’m _not_ sorry to disappoint you early, but you won’t find it.”

 

“W-what?” Root tilts her head in faux or genuine confusion, but Shaw knows what she will do next.

 

“I won’t do that if I were you. I’ve been tased too many times than I would like.”

 

“I don’t-”

 

“I suggest you leave but you won’t, will you? Not until you get what you want from me. Wilson’s men. They’ve started looking for Veronica here three hours ago.  You’ll get a notification in about ten minutes.”

 

“You’re not making any sense. I’m-”

 

“She’s in the bathtub, isn’t she?” Shaw finds the look in Root’s face satisfying. It is kind of fun when she’s the one holding all the information. She notices Root’s body is tense.

 

“And I know who you are.” At this, Shaw quickly moves to push Root against the wall just as soon as the hacker retrieves her taser. The object flies from Root’s hand as she is pinned between the wall and Shaw’s body.

 

“Who are you?” Root asks in a mischievous but serious tone. The operative feels her struggle so she firmly tightens her grip on the hacker’s wrists.

 

“You already know me.” Shaw says, leaning in until their faces are really close. She knows she shouldn’t be this close to the hacker as there might be a chance of being hit in the head, but who can blame her when she’s spent months away.

 

“… I read your file, and I gotta say, I’m kind of a big fan. Your file doesn’t do you justice.” Shaw bites her lip to stop herself from smiling at the line, unintentionally drawing Root’s gaze to her lips. Shaw notices.

 

The operative makes a mistake of losing her grip on one of the hacker’s hand, which flies to an iron sitting on the counter next to them. Root mirthfully smiles now that she’s actually gained some footing in their little stand-off. Shaw shakes her head slightly, amused to no end but trying not to be too close to the iron. Stupid iron. Why would this room even have one anyway?

 

“You know what. You’re right.” Shaw says as the hacker gives her a somewhat surprised but curious look.

 

“But you know, one of the things they left out of my file…” Shaw presses her hips flush to Root’s, taking a risk as she lets her hand touch Root’s, which is holding the iron. Her other hand lets go of Root’s other wrist and her fingers wrap around Root’s neck.

 

Root’s free hand immediately flies to hold onto the operative’s wrist, bringing the iron close to her neck. Somehow, the hacker noticed that the operative is not preventing her from breathing so she keeps steady.

 

“… I kinda enjoy this sort of thing.” The dilating of pupils are reflected in each other’s eyes. Root’s hand on Shaw’s wrist tightens. Of course, Root wouldn’t give up the fight too easily. That’s why they work so well together.

 

“Well…” The hacker says as she hesitantly moves her hand away from Shaw’s wrist and hooks a finger on Shaw’s pants, “That certainly is a pleasant surprise.” The iron is steadily brought back down to the counter and Shaw scoffs internally. Root really needs to work on her arm strength. The iron is not that heavy.

 

“I’m so glad you said that. I do too.” Root looks down at Shaw’s lips and slowly leans in when the notification beeps. Shaw moves away quickly before the hacker could get what she wants.

 

“We have to go. Well, you do. I have something to do here.” Shaw says, not noticing Root’s very disappointed look as Shaw turns off the beeping.

 

“And just when we were starting to connect… How-”

 

“Rude. I know.” Shaw finishes as she turns to the door, completely missing the infatuated look on Root’s face.

 

“Well.” Shaw turns to see Root approaching her with her stuff and Shaw’s jacket. The hacker puts her stuff down neatly before putting Shaw’s jacket on the operative’s form, pulling Shaw slightly close to her. If anything, they looked like a couple, one bidding the other one farewell for a work day.

 

“We’ll do this again soon.” Root says, giving Shaw a look that screams like the hacker wants to kiss her, but only moves away to pick up her stuff and leaves the room.

 

Shaw sits on the familiar chair, waiting for the doors to open with Wilson’s men rushing in. She shoots them like she shot Wilson and leaves the room. She finds John across the street outside.

 

“How was it? Did you get what you need?” He asks.

 

“A little. Listen, I need to meet with my _employer_ tonight. When your friend’s _entity_ finds me tonight in the middle of the street, bring atropine with your cop friends. Do that and I’ll be civil enough to give you a ride back to the city for old time’s sake.” Shaw finishes and John doesn’t question her choice of words.

 

 

 

Harold watches as Shaw exits the ambulance and makes her way towards them. John offers bottled water, one she completely ignores.

 

“Thank you for being such guardian angels.” The operative says sarcastically, but Harold could detect some gratitude in her words.

 

“If you don’t mind me asking, Ms. Shaw, did you plan this?” Harold asks, carefully treading the waters.

 

“How’s Cole?” Avoiding the question.

 

“He woke up this morning, asking for you. We will be sending him off in a few days with a new identity, if you don’t mind.” Shaw shakes her head and patiently waits for Harold’s offer. Seemingly sensing it, Harold reaches into his pocket to take out his card, offering it once more.

 

“My offer still stands.” Shaw looks down at the card, reaches for it and puts it in her pocket. She moves to the ambulance and gestures to it. She watches Harold and John hop in before she herself takes her place in the driver’s seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blah! I'm not dead. 
> 
> You guys probably have a lot of questions concerning multiple things, either about my absence, my plans about updating or the story. Either way, I won't bore you unless you want me to. If you want the long story, tell me; otherwise, the short answer would be life but I can't complain about it anyway. There simply is no reason to.
> 
> To reply to LOCISVU, well, I certainly hope that I made my answer clear to you in this chapter (and despite how my tone may sound as you read this answer, I am merely informing you in a straightforward way, in no way is this meant to be negative or condescending - I found that people misunderstand all the time). I am still thinking about whether I should go about it (time travelling consequences) the easy way or the hard way, but we'll see in the following chapters. 
> 
> Anyway, I'll see you guys when I see you. Oh, and thanks for the support still. I do appreciate it.


	4. Being Human

 

“Why? You think she knows something we don’t?”

 

“I am not sure, Mr. Reese. But I do not known if I am comfortable learning about the Machine’s interest in Ms. Shaw.”

 

“She’s a good soldier, Finch. You didn’t have to trust me, but you did.” John’s implicit suggestion did not escape Harold’s attention.

 

“Yes, but…” Harold trails off, remembering how the agent’s situation turned out the way the operative spoke about it. He thinks about how Shaw had refused his card the first time. Though he understands that the agent has every reason not to trust him, it seems very unusually genuine for Shaw to be concerned for his cover…

 

Harold’s eyes widen slightly just as suspicion continues to grow in his mind. He recalls the way Shaw easily accepted, without question, the idea of them working for the same entity, one that she refers to as his. He tenses, wondering about just how much the operative knows about the Machine.

 

That night, when the storm has passed, Harold has a hard time sleeping.

 

 

 

The Machine watches and watches until the stroke of midnight every night when she has to sleep and wake up, processing information to remind her of what happened the day before. She reminds herself of her creator and her assets.

 

She searches and searches, looks for her primary asset. She goes through the wired and wireless connections around the city, and in other states as well. She calculates and calculates, sending some numbers to the government after running several simulations.

 

The storm from earlier that day has started to cease, and it makes it easier to go around without all the unnecessary interference. She closes in on one device. It does not surprise her that the phone was on, but it certainly was not a high probability. At the last moment, the Machine does not connect to the phone’s speaker. She turns the phone off.

 

 

 

Shaw sits at the chair next to her easel, a lamp hanging over the area. Her hands methodically clean her Nano and her backup piece.

 

“I didn’t expect her to be so… right for you.” Shaw tenses at the sound of Root’s voice in such a nonchalant tone, but she glares at the being sitting on her bed.

 

“Did you have to be so dramatic in the ambulance?” Shaw asks, clearly annoyed as she starts putting her Nano back together.

 

“I thought it would comfort you. In my dimension, I found that such gesture is very appropriate.” Illyria comments, staring at Shaw blankly.

 

“Right. Pretty sure you scared the life back into me, not the atropine.” Shaw says sarcastically.

 

The operative remembers waking up in the ambulance, her head resting on the woman’s lap and her eyes staring up at a very young and innocent looking Root. Despite her death-induced haze, Shaw manages to recognize words that were being spoken to her in such tender and loving tone. She had immediately sat up, seeing Bear running towards the two men. When she looked back, Illyria was no longer there.

 

Shaw stands up from her seat to the fridge, grabbing two bottles of beer. She realizes what she did when she sees Illyria still sitting on her bed. She hesitates for a few seconds before gesturing to the beer in her hand. When Illyria’s head shook, the operative puts it back before she opens her bottle and starts drinking,

 

“The first time had been more appealing.” Shaw shoots her a confused look.

 

“The woman’s version of your meeting. The first time it happened with you sitting on the chair and her leaning into you with that heating metal on her hand.” Illyria clarifies. Shaw hides a smile as she takes another gulp.

 

“Yeah… but I figured that she really wouldn’t be able to stay away if I did it this way.” Without waiting for confirmation, Shaw looks out the window, watching the rain fall hard.

 

“How is she?”

 

“Since we travelled, I haven’t had the time to talk with your… employer. She is quite the character.” Shaw hums before turning to Illyria.

 

“How does this work?”

 

“What we have done is travelled to another dimension, a strand of time that runs alongside your own. Once you are done with your mission, ideally, this strand will merge with your own, and it would seem like you have just gone back into time and woken up in your real timeline. However, the travelling results in unimaginable consequences. When something bleeds through, if you’re not careful, then one timeline will cease to exist.” Illyria stares at Shaw as if reading pages from a book while she explains.

 

“When one disappears, the strands of time will be unbalanced. The worst that could happen is the destruction of the timelines that merged and the universe will replicate what happened in the dead timelines to the one closest to it, making it seem like nothing was changed.” Shaw’s grip on the bottle tightens.

 

“It means, the you who sought to save this woman will experience this loss again… because in thousands, even millions of lifetimes, there is always one that will end the way yours ended. That is the truth.”

 

“How do I know if I’ve changed it?”

 

“You don’t.” Shaw looks at Illyria in attention. The god stands from her seat at Shaw’s bed and approaches Shaw. She slowly reverts to her entity form, her innocent brown eyes turning into solid blue.

 

“I do not necessarily believe this even if this is how it works. However, there are things that hold true.” Shaw keeps her position as the entity invades her personal space, but at the same time, not invading her at all.

 

“Humans choose where they end up. They hate. They love. They consume others. They grow others. They indulge the self. They lead the lost back to the path. Which life is better? A heart that breaks for others? Or a heart of stone that cares only for the self?” Illyria’s gaze runs cold and anyone else would have shivered. She holds up her hand and clenches it tightly until her hand bleeds.

 

“Humans are so pathetic. Given a heart of stone at birth, does that mean a heart of flesh cannot be achieved? And being given a heart of flesh, does a heart of stone fix the troubles of the soul? Is feeling no remorse that great? No guilt? No shame? I once thought that way. All I knew was a life of war and conquer, where the strongest will rule and the weak will follow. But a dear human taught me something. A lot of things I did not understand until the passing.” Illyria’s voice carried a certain heaviness that Shaw had not realized she felt before.

 

“For some reason,” Illyria’s eyes revert back to their innocent brown color as she reaches up to lightly touch her fingers on Shaw’s cheek, “humans are just so loved. The earth sustains them. The lower beings amuse them. The oceans and the mountains, even the wind, has been bent to your will. You humans have no idea what exists only for you. And time passes for you. Even I am envious of it.” She says, moving away from Shaw but keeps her eyes at the operative.

 

“You are no better than any human I have met, but at least you are capable of doing something most humans cannot.”

 

“You do not feel remorse, or guilt, or shame. Fear alludes you and loneliness of isolation is more your friend than your enemy. Happiness is but a fleeting dream and anger consumes you like the average human. But you love. More than the self. Where did you learn this?” Illyria asks before looking at a mirror on one side of the room.

 

“Was it her?”

 

“Giving Root that much credit will make her head swell and I don’t need her to be taller.” The operative says with a smirk. A smile appears on the entity’s face.

 

“Kate would probably like her. Someone who got through to her cousin the only way she and your family did.”

 

“How much did Kate tell you?” Shaw asks, merely out of curiosity but somewhat upset. Illyria picks up on it and she gives Shaw an amused look.

 

“Enough.” Illyria answers. A desire to see Root bubbles up in the operative’s chest. A little tightness but generally manageable. She stares at the mythical god before her.

 

“By the way, this can’t be a thing.” Shaw brings up, gesturing to Illyria in her apartment.

 

“A thing?” Illyria asks.

 

“A common occurrence. You know why.” Shaw says dismissively,

 

“Of course. You need not remind me of it. I am merely here to watch over you,” came the woman’s answer. Shaw decides that she can’t wait until Finch gets kidnapped by Root again, though now she understands why it took Finch a whole lifetime to trust Root and the Machine. Maybe she should find a way to reassure Finch that all will be fine.

 

The next morning, Shaw goes to Cole’s parent’s house, watching and waiting. Any second now and she’ll have to start her first mission: the Machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. I am still here. First of all, thank you for those who are still looking forward to this. I haven't been updating in a while because I've been struggling with something and I couldn't find comfort in writing. I actually had a different chapter 4 already written, but I decided I didn't want that chapter so I rewrote it just a few hours before posting this chapter.
> 
> Anyway, I feel like I want to know you guys better so won't you spare the time to tell me about yourself? I'll go first - in accordance to the rules of reciprocity. I just turned 20 recently and I live in California. I prefer the cold weather but it doesn't snow where I live. My favorite POI character is Shaw but I am more like Root. 
> 
> I will try to write the next chapter tomorrow, maybe brainstorm then write what would happen next.


	5. The First Domino

Harold sits before his computers, the timer ticking every second that passes by. He sits up as if to start typing code but as his fingers hit the keys, no tap succeeds the first. He has been sitting in his chair for more than an hour since the day’s number has been wrapped up. His eyes once again finds the timer on his computer, and he closes his eyes.

 

“That’s not possible.” He continues to convince himself, but he cannot deny that doubt entered his mind for the nth time since the virus had been uploaded.

 

“It’s just not possible.” His distressed tone gets Bear’s attention, prompting the dog to stand from its space before placing its head on his lap.

 

“Bear…” His hand caresses the dog’s fur and it alleviates some of the tension he didn’t realize he had placed on his back. Heels click on the floorboards of the library. He stands up in surprise as Shaw walks in the room and stands a few feet before his desk.

 

“Miss Shaw. How did you find this place?”

 

“I was sure you wanted me to find you. Was I wrong?” Shaw asks before bending down to pet Bear who detected a friendly aura. She scratches him behind the ear and Bear leans on her hand as if second nature, his tail thumping on the floor wildly.

 

“No. I just didn’t expect you to be here so late. Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

“Not at all.” She says, looking at the board behind him. A familiar photo captures her attention and she moves to it naturally, feeling Finch’s gaze on her.

 

“You need help finding someone?” Shaw asks.

 

“I’m afraid that she’s a rather complicated character. She will not be found unless she wants to.” Harold watches as Shaw’s hands graze over the piece of paper located under the hacker’s photo. A smirk plays on the assassin’s face and Harold gets a familiar shiver in his being.

 

“Who says she doesn’t want to be found?” Shaw looks at him, an indecipherable expression on his face. He squints as if to analyze it just as Shaw turns to face him. She looks like she was getting ready to give him a biting remark about something but Harold only gets a smirk.

 

“If you need me, I’ll be around.” Shaw says as she turns to pet Bear’s head again before walking out the room, her heels clicking softer and softer until Harold knows she’s gone.  Harold frowns childishly at Bear’s friendliness towards the ex-ISA operative before turning back to his computers.

 

“She’s a dangerous woman.” Harold muses to himself as he looks at the hacker’s photo on his board. A thought enters his mind and he immediately decided to leave the library with Bear for the night. The thought of being allies with the woman who believed the Machine was a god was not in the least bit concerning than the thought of him actually considering turning his proclaimed enemy into one of his most loyal friends, even if it was in accordance to the words of a famous strategist.

 

 

 

Miss May heads to what she should call as her alias’s apartment. Her eyes trail down to the folded, large envelope in front of her door. Running a quick mental checklist, she wonders if it was a mistake since she knew she would never order something and have it delivered to her current alias’s place. She picks it up carefully and takes it in her room.

 

A small mess of clothes and untouched amenities greet her when she enters, which is exactly how she left it this morning. She places the package down on the bed as she puts her stuff down. She wonders why people work for the government. Unless the position was one of those politicians, it was not at all ideal.

 

She sits on the bed and looks at the package before her. Should she just throw it away? This could be one of those things that end up being the cause of her cover being blown. She brings up the package carefully, tilts it, and tries to see if there is a sort of mechanical sound. There is none. It is neatly packaged, but there is no mark from a post office. There is no return address, which keeps her wariness up.

 

Normally one to trust her instincts, she should have thrown it away. However, something beckoned her to open it. She wraps her hand around the package, trying to feel it through the paper envelope. Her hands find something familiar about the shape so she frowns. Why would someone leave something like this outside her door? It was most likely hand delivered so whoever it was, they knew she was here.

 

She tears it open, and a familiar taser slips out. A note follows right on top of the device and she picks it up. There was no way to know who sent it, but Root knew. She feels a smile come on her face and her cheeks feel warmer.

 

She wonders if she should move immediately. She does not have to update that information at her workplace since that identity will be useless in several days. Did she leave a clue somewhere? Did she get confident and leave a trail? How had she been found?

 

That night, she sits on her bed, fiddling with her taser. She notes it was fully charged, and she decides that returning the favor is right next to finding the Machine. While working on closing her other simpler conquests, she keeps a vigilant watch on the sounds in her hallway. She waits and waits before the time to keep her cover comes, forcing her to leave the apartment. The next few days, there are no notes or packages, and she mentally slaps herself for fulfilling the words in that sweet letter, safely tucked away in the pocket of her favorite leather jacket. The fourth day, she somehow loses some of the excitement, starting to convince herself that who she was waiting for will not come, but…

 

 

 

“You have to go. Now.”

 

“Who are you?” John turns to the cop he had just saved. Cal Beecher looks up at him from the ground.

 

“Just a concerned citizen.” John replies as he thinks of his allies in the NYPD.

 

“Do me a favor. Come with me before you actually wind up dead.” John says as he looks down at the narcotics cop. Beecher looks up at him, watched John carefully as he retrieves a phone from his pocket. As the man in the suit turns, Beecher recognizes the sound of sirens. Making an impulsive decision, he gets up and follows him, listening in on John’s phone call.

 

“Number’s safe Where should I take him?”

 

_“Safe house in XXXX is fine. I certainly hope we were on time.”_

“He will be safe as soon as he leaves town. You might have to convince him since my job stops after keeping the numbers safe.”

 

_“I will meet you at the safe house. Take care, Mr. Reese.”_

“Will do.” John looks back to find Beecher standing still.

 

“You know, you’re a sitting duck.”

 

“Who the hell are you? I mean, thank you for saving my life, but I’m not going anywhere. I have a job to do.” John leads him to the alley near them. When only the darkness is Reese’s cover, the man in the suit turns to the narcotics detective.

 

“If you don’t leave, you will die. HR will stop at nothing to keep their identities a secret.”

 

“What do you know about HR? Do you know who the members are? Tell me and I can guarantee your safety.” John looks at him with a raised brow.

 

“You would have died, had I not shot those idiots and your corrupted CI. So stop being stupid for a moment and come with me.”

 

“If I come with you, will you tell me?” Beecher watches the man’s cool gaze.

 

“No. But if I tell you that I’m Carter’s friend, will you trust me?” John lets Beecher make the decision. He walks away, and sooner rather than later, Beecher’s footsteps sound right next to his.

 

 

 

“Detective Beecher will get out of the city tonight. I have arranged a new identity for him. Hopefully, HR writes him off their list.” Harold says as he turns to Reese and Shaw.

 

“At least we got to him in time.” John nods toward Shaw in gratitude.

 

“We need to keep a close eye on Carter.” Shaw says.

 

“Is she the next number?” John asks, turning to Harold for confirmation. Harold turns to Shaw, who doesn’t even flinch at his scrutiny.

 

“Ms. Shaw. As much as I am pleased that Detective Beecher is safe, how did you know that he’ll be in trouble?” Harold tenses when Shaw looks at his computer. She sits on a nearby bench, attracting Bear’s attention who moves towards her to request for some affection.

 

“I didn’t.” Shaw dismisses the topic, stands up and starts to leave the library.

 

“Ms. Shaw. What is it you are after?” Harold asks, though the answer he is looking for is clear as day. He wants to know how she knew about the Machine. He wants to know if she can be trusted.

 

“Trust doesn’t come easy to me, Harold.” Shaw’s voice is firm and unwavering.

 

“But when it mattered the most, I couldn’t save the one person I wanted to protect. Saving Beecher? I don’t really care if he died tonight. It won’t bother me. But one life saved is still a victory. HR is just another enemy, and I’m sure as hell I won’t make it easy for them.”

 

“… I certainly do not know what happened before. However, nothing good came from trying to change the past or starting a war.” Shaw locked eyes with Harold and somehow, Harold saw himself.

 

“Sometimes, Finch… what we resolved to do because of the past is exactly what we need to do to be where we are now.” Shaw says before finally leaving the library.

 

John leaves soon after, and Harold stays in the library with Bear. That night, he thinks of Nathan and Grace. He thinks of the Machine and the numbers he couldn’t save. He thinks of his rules and the people he wants to protect, and wonders briefly what had changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys. Thanks for waiting a long time. ^^
> 
> To be honest, this chapter was getting re-written over and over in preparation for the chapter that was going to come after it. Because I am a writer that doesn't really have a draft or organizer, the chapters are very intermittent, except when I have a scene in mind for the chapter. 
> 
> Oh, and thank you cmp, Sofia, and LOCISVU for leaving a comment. I do appreciate knowing what you guys think about the chapters. 
> 
> Look forward to the next chapter. I will be working on it as soon as I can.


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